


Mind over matter

by embeer2004



Category: Castlevania: Lords of Shadow
Genre: Angst, Caring, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, a little bit of, or perhaps some are real, post-LOS2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embeer2004/pseuds/embeer2004
Summary: ‘The demons of Dracula’s mind are as real in the Castle as any of the stones it is made of.’Zobek and Satan are destroyed, yet Dracula still needs to wrangle the Castle under his complete control. No longer intent on ending himself, he just wishes for two things: for family, and to escape from the place that has been his home for centuries.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 24





	Mind over matter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xantissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/gifts), [Quarra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarra/gifts).



> I’d like to thank xantissa and Quarra for introducing me to the Lords of Shadow games; their series ‘No wolves allowed’ is so precious! Definitely recommend! <3 (to the infinity)

"I must be dreaming," Dracula murmured, taking a step to the side so he could better examine the apparition before him.  
  
"Said the dream to the dream," the spectre looking like Gabriel Belmont spoke quietly, a glimmer of confusion in its eyes. It reached a hand to its side, and before Dracula could take another step the Gabriel apparition was clutching the vampire killer, ready to attack.   
  
Feeling his gut twist, Dracula closed his eyes and breathed out harshly, feeling a heaviness settle inside him. This was too much like before, with Carmilla. This could not be real… "Why this form?"  
  
"I am inclined to repeat your question, for looking at you is like staring into a twisted mirror. Why did you assume _my_ form? For what purpose?"  
  
Opening his eyes, Dracula saw true confusion in the spectre’s eyes.  
  
"My name is Gabriel Belmont," the apparition stated, "and I’m a warrior, servant of the Brotherhood of Light. I can sense the power you exude; you are clearly not human. Who are you, and what do you want?"  
  
Snarling, Dracula misted up and rematerialised just in front of the spectre, pushing it back forcefully and pressing it up against the wall. It certainly felt solid enough, what kind of creature was this? "This is not real," he hissed, "why this charade?"  
  
The cold metal of the battle cross pressed against his naked chest, warding, but the apparition didn’t attack, eyes mesmerised as they stared down at him. “How? The silver, it should-”  
  
Lifting his arm higher, Dracula pressed against the creature’s throat. It would be so easy to press just a bit harder or tear this being into shreds. He’d destroyed the Forgotten One with just a mere slash. He’d razed armies to the ground, including the spectral reapers the necromancer had set upon him… No, this being didn’t stand a chance against him.  
  
“I was the Chosen One,” he hissed, pressing his face close to the other’s cheek, “God’s chosen one, the Warrior of Light. Fool that I was, I fell… into darkness and shadow; yet _still_ I’m His chosen one, even now after-”  
  
_“Marie.”_  
  
Startled, Dracula released his hold and stumbled back, turning around and gazing into the wing he’d declared forbidden. Blinking, he stared down into the pool of blood that now obstructed the passageway leading to the Bernhard’s wing.  
  
He frowned, feeling uneasy. How had he ended up here?  
  
Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, ignoring the scent of putrid coppery blood wafting towards him.  
  
He remembered entering the cathedral, but what was he was doing _here_? He’d vowed never to return to this place, once he’d finally managed to pull himself together all those centuries ago… And now… this place was not real. Just a memory.  
  
_“We’ll never let you leave, my Lord. We need you…”_ _  
_  
“The Chosen One?” The spectre calling itself Gabriel asked, taking a hesitant step forwards; its thumb itching towards the mechanism that would release the cross’ chain.  
  
Balling his hands into fists, Dracula angrily shook his head and misted up, swirling until he’d circled the spectre and materialising right behind it, trapping its arms in a tight grip, wondering what the creature would do.  
  
This place… this place brought nothing but bad memories. He needed out. Hadn’t he told Marie so?  
  
_“All I want to do, is to escape.”_ _  
_  
She’d told him his place was with them, with his family, yet where was she now? He’d done his task, _again_. He’d destroyed the lord of Death, he’d destroyed Satan. She’d said she’d been sent down here to help him, he’d _felt_ her, _touched_ her… _drank_ from her.  
  
Where was she now?  
  
_“The demons of his mind are as real in this Castle as any of the stones it is made of.”_ _  
_  
Remembering the soldier’s notes, Dracula gritted his teeth, willing the beetles skittering in his gut to burn and _die_ already.  
  
She hadn’t been real. She’d been just another of his mind’s demons…  
  
_“You’re not real.”_ _  
_  
It had all been a lie. _  
_  
He remembered now. The Castle had been destroyed during the siege, in the fight with de Ronceval… He’d killed the army on his doorstep and taken a good part of the country with him in the blast, or so the scrolls scattered throughout Castlevania City informed him. In the end it had been only him and…   
  
“Father?”  
  
_“I am as real as the blood of that witch that is poisoning you as we speak!”_ _  
  
_Pressing up against the apparition, Dracula breathed in deeply, surprised and at once not to smell the familiar scents of leather and oil. The apparition’s body was warm in his grip, _solid_.  
  
Just another demon…  
  
“Where are you going, little human?” Dracula taunted, wrapping his arms tighter around the creature, just on the side of crushing.  
  
_“Where are you going, little dragon?”_ _  
_  
“I am seeking… one… of the Lords of Shadow… here in this… Castle,” the creature looking like Gabriel gasped, jerking in his grip as it tried to wiggle free, “and though I… recognise you… for the vampire you are… I know you are not… this lord. I spoke with Laura… Release me!”  
  
Huffing, Dracula let go. “You’re looking for _Carmilla._ ”  
  
And round and round and round they went.  
  
“Carmilla?” The apparition donning his old flesh asked as it hunched over a bit, reaching for its chest where a familiar medallion hung. Dracula let him; the sooner this charade ended the better. Seeing such a pathetic creature made him want to end its suffering, to squash it like one of those bugs that had annoyed him just a moment ago. The stench of desperation and hope wafted off of this Gabriel and that smelled even more repulsive than the rotten blood submerging parts of this wing.  
  
_“Marie!”_ _  
  
_The creature donning the pitiful looking visage of Gabriel Belmont startled, and it was obvious that it had heard the disembodied voice this time as it turned its head, shocked eyes searching even as a blue glow came from its medallion…  
  
The apparition was there one moment, and the next it was gone, leaving behind no sign of its presence. Bemused, Dracula touched the space in front of him: even the reapers left some sort of substance behind…   
  
“Father?” A soft voice asked, coming from behind him, and a gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder.  
  
_“It’s time for you to return to us…”_ _  
_  
_“Make me a promise.”_ _  
  
_Frowning, he expected for one moment to see the apparition of his boy, Trevor, if he turned around. He didn’t want to turn around, though… didn’t want to see his boy standing there. Trevor had never been real; hadn’t even been conceived from a true memory, but brought to life by his own power, by his own yearning for a family.  
  
Marie had never lived to see their son reach that age.  
_  
_ It was all a lie…  
  
“Father…” The voice sounded weaker, and a waver had crept through its tone. He felt the hand on his shoulder slipping, and a heavy weight bumped into him, knocking him off balance. “Hnnr…” The barely audible grunt was filled with pain. What…?  
  
Whirling around, Dracula was quick enough to catch the tall but lithe figure, preventing it from crashing to the ground. His son, his _true_ son, grown up and turned vampire, was in his arms.   
  
“Trevor?” No, that was wrong; he no longer went by that name. He intended to be his opposite in all, he was… “Alucard? Son!” Only now he recognised a feeling similar to a weighty fog lifting off of him; he hadn’t been even aware of its presence earlier.  
_  
_ Breathing quickly, limbs trembling, Alucard slumped against him, like one of the toy maker’s puppets whose strings had been cut.   
_  
_ Dracula’s eyes quickly roved over his son’s figure, taking in the remnants of the bruises and cuts he’d inflicted. “You need to rest,” he told Alucard, “my blood will aid your healing, but you suffered much. That you’re still coherent after Satan’s possession shows an incredible strength.” He was impressed, and immensely pleased by this fact.  
  
“Yes, father,” Alucard whispered as he let his head drop against Dracula’s shoulder, still a bit hesitant, no doubt unsure of their status now that their plotting had come to an end.  
  
The vampire killer, the one he’d retrieved from Zobek, was an uncomfortable yet comfortable weight on his belt. Dracula would not rid of his old weapon that easily again, yet the pact he’d made with Alucard would not be fulfilled to its end.  
_  
“Choose your family.”  
  
_“Can you stand?” Dracula asked, changing his grip so he could easily pull his son up.  
  
Alucard slowly shook his head, the hand on his arm twitching as the bitter smell of frustration rose from the pale figure. “Dizzy…”  
  
Feeling a wave of a warm _something_ whirl through him, Dracula gave in to the sensation and allowed himself to rest his cheek on Alucard’s hair, wrapping his arms around the lightly trembling figure.  
  
Closing his eyes, Dracula stilled his breath as he tried to come to terms with what he was currently doing. This was the first time he was truly holding his son, _embracing_ him. _This_ is what he’d yearned for, all those years ago when he’d learnt that he and Marie had a son.  
  
The image of his young Trevor flitted before his mind’s eye; a heart’s yearning made real by his own power and the Castle’s.  
  
Clenching his jaw, Dracula pushed away the memory. That boy had never known his mother, or his father, and if he thought about it any longer he knew he’d be driven down a mad spiral. What did it mean that Marie had said she was real, yet had interacted with the Trevor apparition as though they’d been a true family?  
  
It was the Castle. It was using his own power to make things happen, and the boundaries of reality were hazy, as Meslamstea had learnt.   
  
“Trust me,” he told Alucard, waiting until he’d heard the small noise of assent before carefully lifting his son in his arms. Despite Alucard’s size he had no trouble holding on to his boy, and focusing on where he wanted to go he let his power wash over the both of them.  
  
Between one blink and the next they were in one of the bedrooms of the Bernhard wing. “This can be your room, son,” he told the half-conscious figure in his arms. Moving over to the bed, he carefully placed Alucard on it and, after only a slight hesitation, refrained from tucking him in.  
  
Alucard had been alone for so long; in a way he’d become older than Dracula, having lived and participating in the world ever since they’d made their pact. Always vigilant and waiting for the right moment.  
  
Now that they finally had reached a truce, he wished to get to know his son better; see if they could make this work. The fact that Alucard had followed him inside, and had apparently even followed him into the forbidden wing, indicated that his son too wished for _something_ more.  
  
They’d both been alone for so long…  
  
They’d talk later… once Alucard had recovered his strength and health.  
  
Dracula no longer sought his own ending, yet one thing hadn’t changed: he wanted to escape; be free from the Castle. Perhaps… now that Zobek and Satan were dead…  
  
_“You’ll never leave here, our Prince.”_ _  
_  
Clenching his jaw, Dracula sat down in one of the chairs. He would not allow the Castle to harm his son in any way, and he would wrangle it fully back under his control before Alucard would wake. An easy task now that there were no other pressing matters to attend to, and he would keep control of the tamed beast up until the moment he had found a way to finally escape from this place.  
  
_“You and I are one.”_ _  
  
_Sighing, resigned, Dracula focused his thoughts inwards, feeling for the various ways in which he and the Castle had become connected over the many centuries; figuring out the best way to get the Castle under his full control. The moment he figured it out he smiled nastily, and if he’d been a cat he was sure he would be purring with satisfaction. Instead, he scratched his nails over the arm-rests of his chair and braced himself. This would not take long…  
  
“Have at you!”  
  
**The end**

**Author's Note:**

> Oh the possibilities with the Castle and Dracula's powers. So many ways things can be interpreted and how things can go. <3


End file.
